Stavanger Bay dreams fighting machines inside my head like adversaries

Most of those who had gathered to follow beneath him, or beside him, were very unlike Ford. He had realized that it suited him far better to have a diverse group of wolves – they would all offer the pack something extraordinarily different when they had become what they were intended. There were times when the warhound felt as though he had surrounded himself with far too many differences to succeed. Surely, there would come a time when they would no longer wish to listen to the cold and hollow brute that had been made into their leader. It was the light of the woman's eyes that caused him to feel that change. Like the wind carries a storm, she had been blown in to him and was willing to walk beside his figure.

“Then you shall have a home in the bay. What am I to call you?” the looming titan inquired. For all of their shared moments, the delicate talking of kinship, he had never once gotten a moniker from the woman. By that same token, he had not yet shared his own calling with her. Perhaps it was best done the way that they had done it; to find similarities before ever speaking their names.